The OutbreakBy:Alyssa Williams
I met Ben only a few years ago, when he came into my office and asked to sit down. He said he had a story that he needed to get off his chest, because the Country Police Officials were looking for him and he needed serious help. I am not a criminal, and have never been one; in fact, I am psychologist who recently heard of the Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) breakout in the state. The night before, when I was watching TV, the news reporter had said “Coming up: the most recent story alert about the Outbreak” which at the time was somewhat old news, but she continued on with the story:“On Monday, January 18 2121, the government issued a nationwide alarm, because our country is now being attacked from the inside”, she said, “It seems that the number of people who are now affected with (PTSD) has escalated…” but before she could continue I turned off the TV.Anyways, Ben, you could tell, was one of these (PTSD) victims. The boom of the elevators sent him into a frenzy. But the thing that I noticed was different was the fact that he recovered quickly; faster than anyone else I had ever seen. But before he could start his story, a bright white beam of light appeared. It was gone as fast as it was there, and in its place stood Tracy, the attendant. “Dr. Randison, a new prescription for the Aid has come in.”"Thank you.” I replied.She disappeared as the white beam reappeared, and I continued to watch Ben. “So,” I began, “what do you need to talk about?” but he was already looking away, as if he was in his own little world. I recognized his silence as a mental recession, one of the symptoms of (PTSD) that have occurred in the past 100 years. I took out a box, inside were the containers of the new Aid. But as I closed it, the lock snapped and the box slammed shut. Suddenly, Ben was out of his seat, pacing and glancing quickly around, until his eyes fell on me. He looked like a crazy man, and he moved towards the window.“2 HOURS! 2 HOURS!” He started yelling. I told him to calm down, that everything would be okay, but he didn’t notice. I hooked him up to the COMP, the newest device used for seeing into a patient’s mind. What followed was very disturbing.Ben was sitting on a porch, watching his friends get out of their hydro-powered cars. They were dressed in black armored suits, and they held guns that looked small, but could blast a whole wall to the ground. Ben was holding some other kind of weapon though. “Alright guys,” one of the men said, “we have 2 hours to get in and log into the controls, and shut down the nuclear bombs.”“Let’s do this!” a woman shouted.Ben felt heat rise to his face. What if something goes wrong? But he wouldn’t think about it, because that might send him into another panic attack. He didn’t know why he had these; they just seemed to happen whenever he thought of any past incidents. But before he could change his mind, they were running through a building; dark, old, and close to crumbling. His friend reached the control room before anyone else did, and he started disabling whatever he could. “Good thing this is almost over.” His friend joked.Then, from somewhere overhead, a few gunshots went off, followed by footsteps that were coming from upstairs. But Ben had already gone numb; his body and his mind. He watched as his friend’s faces suddenly became unfamiliar, and their guns made Ben start freaking out. “Ben? Ben put the gun down.” The woman said. But he had shot the gun before she could say another word.Suddenly the screen went blurry, and then the picture of Ben running came back onto the screen. I continued to watch in horror as he turned around once and five bodies were in that room, lying lifelessly on the floor. Without thinking, I hurried over to the box on my desk, grabbed a container, and put one of the shots in Ben’s arm. I realized too late that it was the new Aid, the one that hadn’t been tested yet. But Ben relaxed, looked dazedly up and said “Did I tell you my story yet?”I just nodded my head yes. He looked confused, but then a sad realization slowly shadowed his face. “I’m so sorry.” He said. A few moments passed slowly, then abruptly the white beam appeared, and Tracy was there when it had vanished. “Dr. Jamison, I am sorry to interrupt, but the CPO’s are downstairs. They say they need to talk to a client of yours that came by today?” she said.“Send them up” I replied, knowing who they had come for.When Tracy had left, I looked back to Ben. This time, he wasn’t panic stricken; his face was smooth, and he seemed perfectly fine. He didn’t show any signs of (PTSD), or look like a criminal on the run. He just seemed like a regular guy who was happy for the first time. The beam of white appeared once more, and the CPO’s arrested Ben right there in my office. After so many years of trying to find an actual “cure” for (PTSD) (other than the trained pets), I realized that it was finally found: the Aid. Even though it was too late to save millions of lives, we at least discovered it. The first time I met Ben, he was one of the last Outbreak victims I would want to talk to; the last moment I saw him, he was the first person I wanted to help.
I met Ben only a few years ago, when he came into my office and asked to sit down. He said he had a story that he needed to get off his chest, because the Country Police Officials were looking for him and he needed serious help. I am not a criminal, and have never been one; in fact, I am psychologist who recently heard of the Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) breakout in the state. The night before, when I was watching TV, the news reporter had said “Coming up: the most recent story alert about the Outbreak” which at the time was somewhat old news, but she continued on with the story:“On Monday, January 18 2121, the government issued a nationwide alarm, because our country is now being attacked from the inside”, she said, “It seems that the number of people who are now affected with (PTSD) has escalated…” but before she could continue I turned off the TV.Anyways, Ben, you could tell, was one of these (PTSD) victims. The boom of the elevators sent him into a frenzy. But the thing that I noticed was different was the fact that he recovered quickly; faster than anyone else I had ever seen. But before he could start his story, a bright white beam of light appeared. It was gone as fast as it was there, and in its place stood Tracy, the attendant. “Dr. Randison, a new prescription for the Aid has come in.”"Thank you.” I replied.She disappeared as the white beam reappeared, and I continued to watch Ben. “So,” I began, “what do you need to talk about?” but he was already looking away, as if he was in his own little world. I recognized his silence as a mental recession, one of the symptoms of (PTSD) that have occurred in the past 100 years. I took out a box, inside were the containers of the new Aid. But as I closed it, the lock snapped and the box slammed shut. Suddenly, Ben was out of his seat, pacing and glancing quickly around, until his eyes fell on me. He looked like a crazy man, and he moved towards the window.“2 HOURS! 2 HOURS!” He started yelling. I told him to calm down, that everything would be okay, but he didn’t notice. I hooked him up to the COMP, the newest device used for seeing into a patient’s mind. What followed was very disturbing.Ben was sitting on a porch, watching his friends get out of their hydro-powered cars. They were dressed in black armored suits, and they held guns that looked small, but could blast a whole wall to the ground. Ben was holding some other kind of weapon though. “Alright guys,” one of the men said, “we have 2 hours to get in and log into the controls, and shut down the nuclear bombs.”“Let’s do this!” a woman shouted.Ben felt heat rise to his face. What if something goes wrong? But he wouldn’t think about it, because that might send him into another panic attack. He didn’t know why he had these; they just seemed to happen whenever he thought of any past incidents. But before he could change his mind, they were running through a building; dark, old, and close to crumbling. His friend reached the control room before anyone else did, and he started disabling whatever he could. “Good thing this is almost over.” His friend joked.Then, from somewhere overhead, a few gunshots went off, followed by footsteps that were coming from upstairs. But Ben had already gone numb; his body and his mind. He watched as his friend’s faces suddenly became unfamiliar, and their guns made Ben start freaking out. “Ben? Ben put the gun down.” The woman said. But he had shot the gun before she could say another word.Suddenly the screen went blurry, and then the picture of Ben running came back onto the screen. I continued to watch in horror as he turned around once and five bodies were in that room, lying lifelessly on the floor. Without thinking, I hurried over to the box on my desk, grabbed a container, and put one of the shots in Ben’s arm. I realized too late that it was the new Aid, the one that hadn’t been tested yet. But Ben relaxed, looked dazedly up and said “Did I tell you my story yet?”I just nodded my head yes. He looked confused, but then a sad realization slowly shadowed his face. “I’m so sorry.” He said. A few moments passed slowly, then abruptly the white beam appeared, and Tracy was there when it had vanished. “Dr. Jamison, I am sorry to interrupt, but the CPO’s are downstairs. They say they need to talk to a client of yours that came by today?” she said.“Send them up” I replied, knowing who they had come for.When Tracy had left, I looked back to Ben. This time, he wasn’t panic stricken; his face was smooth, and he seemed perfectly fine. He didn’t show any signs of (PTSD), or look like a criminal on the run. He just seemed like a regular guy who was happy for the first time. The beam of white appeared once more, and the CPO’s arrested Ben right there in my office. After so many years of trying to find an actual “cure” for (PTSD) (other than the trained pets), I realized that it was finally found: the Aid. Even though it was too late to save millions of lives, we at least discovered it. The first time I met Ben, he was one of the last Outbreak victims I would want to talk to; the last moment I saw him, he was the first person I wanted to help.